Summertime - A tale of ticks, Woody Woodpecker and tiny yellow birds.

A tiny, yellow bird appeared in our yard this summer. No, it isn't a goldfinch.
 

See, it doesn't have the same familiar markings of a male goldfinch or even the same shape. Time to contact an expert, Sally Jo Gibson.

While we're waiting for an answer, join us as we drive north to Branson, Missouri, and stretch our legs at Stockstill Park, but only after picking up carbs while sharing lunch at Rocky's in downtown Branson.
We've been loyal customers of Rocky's since finding the little Italian restaurant beside the railroad tracks shortly after we were married 24 years ago.
The sign outside the restaurant says Rocky's dates to 1984, and our friend, Layne Ragsdale, said she remembers stopping with her late dad at the old rock building beside the railroad tracks when it was a feed store for livestock.
Well Sunday, it was a feed store for us and a few other diners.

Stockstill Park met all of our requirements for a mid-August stroll. It has wide concrete and asphalt walks, water faucets and restrooms, park benches and covered pavilions, and NO changes in elevation, except for crossing a bridge.

Look in the bushes, we're being closely watched by a doe. We saw a fawn cross the trail in front of us. Now it is hiding behind its mother. They quickly vanished into the undergrowth.

Yes, we saw wildlife in the park but NO, let me repeat, NO, ticks ... especially seed ticks.
What a pain, literally, when hiking forest and grassland trails in the summer.
Let's see, we were over-run by seed ticks while exploring the Pea Ridge National Battlefield.
We ran from the overlook trail at the Bull Shoals Dam after spotting ticks running all over our clothing.
Yep, that's the same dilemma we found ourselves facing when walking to a waterfall in Branson and on a trail in the Buffalo National River at Erbie.
Ticks! Ticks! Ticks!

See the wide, flat trail leading into the woods behind us?

Let me tell you about our caps.
We're under doctor's orders to limit our exposure to sunlight.
If I go to my doctor's office with sun exposure lines on my forehead, I can expect to be chastised. I'm also under orders to use lotion with sunscreen on my ears, face and neck.
Here's what a dermatologist told Megan.
Last year, he said lots of farmers come in his office and have old arms (from sun exposure) and young legs (no sun exposure).
Women have old legs, especially thighs, from sun exposure.
This year, he told her that damage from sunlight is permanent. Asking her to lift her arms.  He said her arms, face, neck, entire body should look like the skin under her arms.
When he came in my examining room, I bragged about using sunscreen. That got me the same lecture, the damage is done ... back 55 years ago and up.
These hats do a pretty good job of limiting exposure to the sun, and they're light and comfortable.
"Ha-ha-ha-HAAAAA HA!"
Did you hear than voice?
"Ha-ha-ha-HAAAAA HA!"
It's Woody Woodpecker.

There he is! Megan saw his flight onto the side of this tree beside the trail.

Actually, this is a Pileated Woodpecker.
We used to call it by the wrong name ... until Megan's Mom pointed her finger right in Megan's nose, squinted, corrected her and said, "Pī-lē-ˌā-təd. It's called a pī-lē-ˌā-təd woodpecker." 
Thanks for the laugh, Mom.
Back to that little bird.
 

Sally Jo Gibson said this is a yellow warbler. Yes, we're part of its summer habitat, so this isn't unexpected. We just haven't noticed the birds before. Now they're on our life list.

And here's a last picture of our walk today. Yes, it's OK that we're standing this close. Dwain's wearing white or you'd see his pores are sweating profusely and Megan is glistening ... just a little.

She took care of that problem in a few minutes when we found a spigot.
Megan took off her sandals and stood under the stream of water. 
Then like a little kid, she let it run down her legs, rubbed on the back of her neck, washed her face ... enough girl. We're in public.
Hahaha ... time to go home.

Megan and Dwain

I say ...
In the summertime
When the weather is high
You can stretch right up
And touch the sky
When the weather is fine ...
Mungo Jerry - In the Summertime